


Some Friendly Advice

by madina



Series: N.B.GAY. [2]
Category: Men's Basketball RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Basketball, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Queer Themes, Relationship Advice, nbgay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28980120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madina/pseuds/madina
Summary: Kyrie's a pretty good friend, especially when Kevin is a hopelessly romantic disaster who needs a nudge in the right direction.
Relationships: Implied Paul George/Kyrie Irving, Kevin Durant & Kyrie Irving, Kevin Durant/Russell Westbrook
Series: N.B.GAY. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118921
Comments: 29
Kudos: 16





	Some Friendly Advice

“Something’s buggin’ you, KD.” Kyrie confronts his friend after their pickup game. He waits as the others pack up their stuff and go. 

Kevin grimaces and tries to pathetically hide it. His gaze is wild, filled with racing thoughts and desperately trying to focus on the upcoming season but his personal life is clearly creeping in. 

“Nah, I’m good. Swear.” He forces a smile even though it never reaches his eyes. “Let’s get some shots up.”

Kyrie rolls his eyes at his lame retreat but acquiesces. He’s known Kevin long enough that he’ll eventually cave and spill what’s on his mind. He likes to keep his personal and professional life as separate as possible and when either starts to encroach on the other, he immediately tries to resolve it so he can have semblance of a healthy balance. 

Kevin is incredibly meticulous to a fault. His desire to keep the two separate, when in some cases they just aren’t, has made him come off as cold and cutthroat and brought on a ton of consequences. He learned a valuable lesson when he left OKC for Golden State without telling Russell that he was even meeting with the franchise because he wanted to keep the two separate, didn’t want to mix “business with pleasure,” and it damn well nearly cost him Russell. In fact, it had cost him Russell for a few years because man, can Russ hold a grudge. 

Kyrie assumes they moved passed that because Kevin had gushed to him about how Russell would spend the night when the Rockets were playing the Knicks, or Russell would invite him to a game when Houston played the Sixers. The latter was stupidly adorable because Kevin would light up like a child on Christmas morning and call Kyrie and drag him shopping so he could have some semblance of control, namely of his outfit, when Russell was slowly trusting him again. 

They were happy, more settled, than they have been in years. It was sweet. 

Kevin’s rhythm was off. He was an elite scorer and incredibly skilled but mentally he wasn’t in the gym. He aggressively grips the basketball in his hands and clenches his fingers around it. 

Kyrie waits, dribbling the ball in his hands. He takes a shot and drains it. The ball bounces beneath the basket and he doesn’t walk over to grab another one. “You ready to talk now?”

His teammate sighs and places the ball on his hip. “Yeah.”

Kyrie gestures to the seats along the baseline. His friend walks over to the seat on the right and picks up his reusable water bottle and takes the cap off, taking a long gulp and wiping the sweat off his forehead. 

Kyrie wipes his forehead down with a towel and uncaps his own Hydro Flask. “Well? What’s up?”

Kevin takes off his sneakers and reaches beside him to his gym bag, pulling a pair of team slides out of it. He slips them on after taking his socks off. “It’s about Russ.”

Kyrie wasn’t surprised. There’re very few things that can fuck with Kev’s head like this. At the top of his list are his mom and Russ. “I thought everything was goin’ good? Don’t tell me you’re breaking up.”

He looks so horrified it would be comical if he didn’t look so wiped out. “No! No, not that. Never that. Russ is it for me. We’re good. We doin’ real good right now.”

Kyrie’s confused but snorts at how Kevin’s face went real soft and sweet all of a sudden. “Aight, then what is it?” 

Kevin’s face grows serious and nervous. This oughta be interesting. “I want him to move in with me.”

Kyrie can feel how his eyebrows furrow. Russ and Kev were one of the most domesticated couples of the queer side of the NBA, so this didn’t make any sense. “I thought you guys practically live together already?”

He clears his throat and avoids Kyrie’s befuddled stare. “Yeah, basically.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Kyrie asks. “Do you want an excuse to buy a new house? Because, bro, you don’t need one. Buy another house if that’s what you want.”

“I do wanna buy a new house.” He’s nodding, his eyes becoming clearer as he gets his thoughts together. “I want to buy one with Russ. One that’s ours.” 

“Ah.” Kyrie clicks his tongue. “I gotchu. You want to build a home with your boo so when you guys have kids and all that cute shit.”

It’s his dark skin that covers up the redness of his blush but his mannerisms display that he’s flustered. “Maybe. Our places are cool and stuff, we’ll still use them, or maybe we’ll sell them but we’ve never had a place that we shopped for together, designed together and bought together. I want that.”

“How you going to do that when you guys are in different conferences, fool?” Kyrie flicks him on the forehead. “He plays in Texas and your ass is here in New York. How you gonna do it?”

Kevin doesn’t say anything. That’s suspicious because he’s always got something to say when Russ is the subject, especially when it’s coupley shit like this and not Kevin fawning over how his boyfriend is averaging a triple-double again. 

“How does Russ feel about it?” Kyrie takes another sip of his water, then checks the time on his phone. “Have you talked to him about it?”

His teammate’s shoulders slump and a deep, guttural groan leaves his mouth. “Fuck.”

Kyrie laughs, shaking his head. “You haven’t said shit to him, have you? You’re that scared of him?” He jokes but he knows that Russ plays no games and can intimidate the best of them, including 7-footers who are madly in love with him. “Jesus, Kev.”

“I always have shitty timing, I know.” His friend replies, squeezing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “But I really want this. We’ve lived apart for so long.”

“That’s mostly your fault, idiot.” Kyrie rolls his eyes. “You’re the one that left OKC for Golden State. You guys coulda settled down and all that shit by now.”

It speaks to the growth of his and Russ’ relationship where Kevin doesn’t cringe anymore at the mention of possibly the worst and best decision of his life. They’ve hashed it out and settled the score. Painful but necessary. 

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, the fact of the matter is that we’ve both _outgrown_ OKC.” Kevin defends he and Russ’ decisions to leave the franchise, albeit, at different times. “And we’re not looking back. I’m almost jealous of the guys who date people outside the NBA.”

“You’d just be dragging some poor girl all over the country with your bounce act.” Kyrie scoffs, playfully. He’s one to talk. “This is how it’s gonna be until you guys retire.” 

“I don’t wanna wait that long.” He whines stubbornly. “That could take five years.”

“Why you want this all of a sudden?” Kyrie asks, curiously. “Russ still has what? Three years on his contract? He’s not leaving Houston anytime soon… wait, hold up… hold the fuck up… Kevin!” 

Kevin Durant looks like a hostage about to sing like a canary. He’s holding back valuable information out of loyalty and secrecy but he desperately wants to spill the beans. 

“I mean, I know Russ and James went out bad in the second round but they’re tight!” Kyrie insists. “Kevin, c’mon.”

“Russ is considering asking for a trade.” Kevin whispers, guiltily. He closes his eyes as if bracing for impact. “I overheard him talking to his agent the other night.”

“Wow.” 

“I know.”

_“Shit.”_

“I _know.”_

“And you want him to.” Kyrie concludes. He has so many questions, so many.

Kevin sighs, looking relieved that he doesn’t have to say it but happy that the weight of the secret is off his shoulders and the guilt of what he wants to ask for weighing heavily on him. “Yeah.”

“I assume you want him to ask for a trade to a team in the East.” Kyrie states. “And close to Brooklyn.” 

“God, it sounds worse when you say it.” Kevin throws his face into his hands. “I’m such an asshole.”

Kyrie smirks. “No. Not an asshole. Just a fool in love.”

A groan leaves Kevin’s mouth, his face heating up. “Ugh. Fuck off.”

“What’re you going to do?” Kyrie can only imagine how that conversation would go. “You can’t keep this from him.”

“No.” Kevin confirms. “But I don’t wanna cross a line. It’s his career. I’m gonna support him no matter what he does. But I don’t wanna get involved!” 

“Too late.” Kyrie snorts. “You’re all up in this, bro. And I bet you got all these thoughts running through yo mind about where you can live and how nice it’ll be nice to come home to yo man.”

“You’re fucking awful.” Kevin nearly shoves him off his chair. 

“And cuddle up with him after a game and pick him up at the airport and make him breakfast after a long road trip.” Kyrie begins listing off the cute domestic scenarios that’ll surely occur if they live in the same house. “Who knew you were such a hopeless romantic?”

Kevin damn near whimpers. He wants it so badly. They don’t get to do it nearly enough during the year. When he was in Golden State, he was envious when he saw Steph and Klay driving home together after practice and how they cuddled up on team flights, got to share rooms on road trips and shared all their best and worst professional moments together. Russ and Kevin couldn’t do that and would never be able to but he wants what the other NBA guys get. 

“Was Russell serious about asking for a trade or was it just hypothetical?” Kyrie tears him away from his daydreaming. “Is the team considering trading him?”

“I’m as shocked as you. I thought Russ and James were gonna be a dynamic duo in the West, especially after Steph and Klay went down.” He responds. “This was supposed to be their year. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that.”

Kyrie can’t help but laugh. “C’mon, they lost to the one seed.” More like they got their asses kicked in five games but Kyrie didn’t wanna put it like that. 

Kevin waves that off. “I dunno if Houston is shopping him around and Russ found out or if Russ is the one who is bringing it up.”

Kyrie considers what he says. “How serious did he sound?” 

“Pretty serious.” Kevin says, or he hopes Russ is. “But Russ always sounds serious when talking business.”

Kyrie purses his lips, and rubs his chin. “I think you should tell him you wanna get a new place and ask him what he thinks. Tell him you wanna take the next step. He don’t gotta make a decision today or even tomorrow or whenever. But that it’s an option. Don’t guilt trip him. Don’t try that reverse psychology shit. Be upfront. Tell him what you want.”

Kevin sighs. “I know. I was gonna tell him tonight. I just don’t want him to want it because I want it. If he wants to stay in Houston, I’ll support him. If he wants to go to the Clippers or shit, I dunno, fuckin’ Phoenix, I’ll be first in line to buy a jersey and celebrate.”

Kyrie reaches over to squeeze his friend’s shoulder in support. “I know you will, Kev. You’re the corniest mother fucker in the group chat. I guarantee Russ will appreciate your honesty and he loves you, fool. He wants to know what you want so he can make you happy. He wants you involved in those choices. He’s not like you. He doesn’t wanna compartmentalize.”

His friend has the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face and Kyrie would gag if he didn’t find it sweet and wasn’t being dragged into a hug. Kevin’s ridiculously long arms are wrapped around him and he feels his beard rubbing against his temple. 

“I know. Thanks, Ky.” Kevin places a loud smack of a kiss on his forehead and squeezes him one last time before reaching over for his gym bag and water bottle. He’s walking with a rejuvenated stride. “Let’s hit the showers. I’ll buy you lunch.”

Kyrie laughs at his retreating back but grabs his things and follows after him.   
  
  


\----------

  
  
  


A couple of weeks later Kyrie receives a text while he’s eating a bowl of oatmeal on his kitchen island. He sets his spoon down and reaches over to check who it’s from. He slides up and opens the text message from Kevin and grins at its contents. 

_Hey bro just wanted to let you know before Woj drops the bomb. Russ is going to Washington!!!_

_Yoooo!!! That’s crazy!! I bet you’re happy lol_

_Shut up lol Russ is all that matters_

_So I guess that talk went over well_

_Yeah we talked when we got to LA and we talked it over with his agent and he decided on Washington. We drew the line at the knicks lmao_

_Russ would’ve been in his rights to kill you if you tried to force him to go to the knicks_

_Lmao_

_I’m happy for you bro you guys deserve it_

_Thanks bro. We gonna start looking for a place next week_

_How cute_

_Lol fuck off dickhead I was gonna thank you but now i ain’t_

_Thank me for what? Lol_

_For listening and being a good friend_

Kyrie’s heart warms and he stares at the text for a few seconds considering how he’ll respond. 

He’s interrupted by the feel of a pair of warm lips kissing his shoulder, moving up his neck and settling beneath his jaw. He closes his eyes and bites his lips at the scratchy feel of Paul’s beard. “Is there any oatmeal left?”

Kyrie nods and points to the stove. “There’s milk and honey on the counter if you want.” 

_Damn,_ Paul George’s got a nice ass. 

“You gonna answer that?” Paul tips his head toward Kyrie’s abandoned phone on the countertop. 

Kyrie takes his phone back into his hand and looks at the double text Kevin sent. 

_Even if you are a pain in the ass_

Kyrie chuckles and brings a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. Paul sets down a cup of coffee for Kyrie. “Thank you.”

”Of course.”

_Lol just don’t forget to make me your best man at the wedding and godfather to your firstborn_

_You can’t have both_

_Lmao yes i can_

_I’ll sic Russ on you_

_Fine, gimme the firstborn_

_We’ll see_

Kyrie sets his phone back down and oogles at Paul’s backside. Paul looks over his shoulder and sends him a flirty smirk and wink. Kyrie bites his lip, trying to stop the smile from creeping onto his face. 

Kev sends him another text because he’s a cockblock and hates him. 

_And pls put Paul George outta his misery already damn_

Kyrie thinks that’s enough talking for today. 

  
  



End file.
